confused her, made her want to pull away. But the fact was that her last-ditch effort to regain control stood no chance of success, she was so completely out of her league.
Under her dress, Gabe curved one hand around her ribs to lightly brush the side of a lace-covered breast, destroying all thoughts of rebellion. Her sharp cry made him chuckle. It was a very sexual sound. Even she understood that tone, the tone of a man who knew he had a woman in the palm of his hands. Tonight he was the master and she very much the novice.
The thought sparked a new burst of defiance. She might not be able to stop herself from going under but she refused to give in completely. Thrusting her hands into his hair, she tugged and made him raise his head. âWhy do I have to be the one whoâs undressed first?â Her voice was husky, her words uttered on a gasp, but at least sheâd gotten them out.
âHere I am. Unbutton the shirt.â It was both an order and a dare. He didnât think sheâd do it.
So she did.
Tanned male skin appeared bare inches from her lipsâpure temptation that locked up her throat and shot arrows of need to her most private core. Sheâd made a bad miscalculation. However she had no intention of backing down. Mouth dry, she continued down his chest and stomach, pulling the shirt from his pants to finish the job.
When he kissed her again, her hands were still between their bodies and it was inevitable that sheâd flatten them on his chest. The shock of skin to skin contact made her tremble. There was nothing soft about Gabriel. The man was built like a lean, beautiful machine and the womanly heart of her could only appreciate him.
When he slid the hand from her hair along her shoulders, she instinctively understood the silent request. Dropping her hands from his chest, she let him pull the dress down her arms. To her surprise, he stopped with the neckline just above her breasts and let go. Her hand shot up in a responsive movement, clutching the satin to her chest.
His eyes glittered with passion, unshielded in a way sheâd never before seen. âDo it for me, Jess.â
There was nothing else she could do, not with the fury of passion between them. Her body had triumphed over her mind, taken over everything sheâd ever known about her own needs and desires. Unable to hold the power of that gaze, she looked awayâ¦and released the dress. It slid off her body like cool water.
Silence.
She found the courage to look up.
Green eyes clashed with her own and time stopped.
âBeautiful.â He broke the connection to run those eyes down the corset-like teddy, to the point where the lace tops of her stockings met the bare skin of her upper thighs. Then he retraced his journey, leaving her scarcely able to breathe. And that was before he shrugged off his shirt.
She bit back a whimper but not soon enough.
âIf you want to touch, do it.â His hands went to her waist and stroked down to close over the curves of her bottom with boldness that made it very, very clear he considered her his in the most basic sense.
Hands fisted against his chest, she fought the urge to lean closer to taste him. His skin was beautiful, healthy and golden brown, radiating power. A second later, he used that strength to pick her up and drop her lightly on the bed.
Then never taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the edge to remove his socks. The muscled temptation of his back laid waste to her final defenses. She was about to reach out to touch when he stood. His hands went to his belt.
Fingers grasping the sheets, she watched mesmerized as he unbuckled the belt and pulled it out of the loops. It fell to the carpeted floor with a dull metallic sound. But she could hardly hear anything, her attention fixated on his fingers as they undid the top button of his pants.
Then he pulled down the zipper.
Cheeks ablaze, she closed her eyes and feltâmore than heardâhis low
Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson